The Bartender and the Thief
by retrinazambrano
Summary: A collection of stories about Roni and her friend/employee Joe, set in Hyperion Heights. OQ AU, think you can guess who is who! Is there a curse? I'll let you be the judge of that... rated M in case later chapters go in that direction!
1. Aftermath

**As it happens, I had so much fun writing the second instalment of this verse, that I decided to write more! If this is the first one you're reading, I'd suggest reading the first two instalments which are chapter 17 and 18 of my _Lucky Feather and Magic Knickers_ compilation and written for OQ fix-it week (18 is first, 17 is second - as I wasn't planning on writing more, there are some chronological errors between the two pieces). There'll be more coming, however, including a Christmas fic!**

 **Thank you, Lindsay, for beta-ing. This chapter is dedicated to Steph, who is a good friend of mine and also about to take aim at poverty by embarking on a year-long volunteer trip to Vietnam, like the amazing lady she is! Please consider donating to the volunteer program, the link of which you can find on Steph's pinned tweet (she is _politeregal_ ). Mwah!**

 **I don't own OQ, apparently. Or Roni. Do I own Joe? Sorta? I don't know..!**

* * *

Roni doesn't see Joe for a few days after their accidental date. Not purposely, of course - he was due a few days off after that as a thank you for the overtime for that event (not date… is it even a date if neither of them were technically a willing participant?) then Theo got ill and of course, she wouldn't make him work when his son needed him.

It's a Friday night shift, busy when he comes in and she calls for him to get working as soon as he can. The customers are rowdy tonight - the Seattle Sharks are playing the Hyperion Hawks and Roni's has become a sports bar once again, with everyone from her friend Henry to Weaver nursing their various tipples, cheering on their home team (they're all Hyperion fans, naturally - Roni's is a sort of unofficial supporters bar), _hyping the Hyperions_ , Joe calls it, murmuring to her that he never understood the appeal of American Football when _real_ football - soccer - was where it was at.

He wished he'd not said that quite so loud, the customers giving him a good-natured jeer as he defends himself, that the almighty Tottenham Hotspur were the only _football_ team he needed in his life.

"Mmm, probably best not to say that when all the people here tonight are more than likely here for the game," Roni notes with a grin and a nudge, indicating to the screens above.

"Really busy huh? Why didn't you call me in earlier?"

"Theo mainly - you're already doing me a huge favour by being here tonight," she responds, pushing a rogue curl behind her ear and passing a pint over the bar, asking for payment in her usual friendly manner.

"He's much better - he's got a Despicable night planned with Big Guy." Roni's brow furrows, not understanding. "Despicable Me. All the films."

"Oh, right," she shrugs. "Never seen them."

"Surprising, seeing as you know Theo. Tell him and he'll demand you sit and watch at least the first one with him. Will probably name you one of his minions."

Roni chuckles at that; so that's what those little yellow tic-tac things were called. "Maybe I will though, I mean, I quite like watching films. If you'll be there..?"

Their eyes meet then, the contact broken almost immediately by a request for yet another ale. "Coming right up!" She calls back, all but forgetting what they were discussing.

* * *

As expected, the Seattle Sharks win the game - and by a country mile too - the Hyperions getting all manner of curses from many of the drunk spectators, throwing hands at the screen as the shamed players walk off the pitch, leaving the Sharks to gloat and revel in all their glory. Roni groans; she knows instinctively that the end of the match does not mean last orders and that most of these drunk citizens will demand more drinks and goodness knows how many taxis later, Henry doling out Swyft codes like no tomorrow (not that they're gonna be in any fit state of mind to use their apps, let alone the codes, Roni reminds him, but it's the thought that counts).

She just hopes to God no fights break out again, especially with Weaver and Rogers in attendance.

Her hopes are thankfully met, most having drowned their sorrows relatively responsibly, leaving the bar in its usual post-Friday mess. Sighing, Roni takes a rag to the bar and begins to wipe it clean, ridding the tables of used glasses and putting them in the dishwasher - that'll wait 'til morning.

"Hey Roni, I'm off." She turns to find Joe with his jacket slung over his shoulder and a hand raised in goodbye.

"Thank you so much for this evening," she reiterates as she moves around the tables, collecting any stray trash that she can see. "Really, I appreciate it." She rounds the bar again then, grabbing the bottle of gin and measuring herself out a shot.

"Not drinking alone are you?" Joe asks, brow raised.

"Yep, unless you want to join me." She holds up the tiny glass and raises it into the air. Joe's immediately opposite her, jacket on the stool beside him as she passes him a glass. They toast to the success of the evening then knock it back, wincing at the taste, strangely enjoying the warm sensation drifting down their throats and into their stomachs.

"I needed that," Roni admits. "Perhaps we should have some soccer nights. Can't be any worse than what we have on _American_ football nights," she emphasises for Joe.

Joe laughs - she really has no idea. "Yes, you may think that, but I've known fans to kick chairs when their beloved team gets scored against."

Roni winces, a smirk forming on her face. "Was that you?"

The Brit puts his hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Me, milady? You must think me some lager lout."

She stares. "What?" He explains the very British phrase, leaving Roni to shake her head. "Well okay, no… but really? Why do people get like that over sports? It's just a game!"

It's Joe's turn to stare then. "And that, my dear, is what you _do not_ say on game nights. Especially not in a bar. Especially not amongst rabid fans."

"Well, sue me, but it's true. I don't understand." Roni empties the cash register as she speaks, counting the night's takings. That along with card payments, she's made a decent amount of money tonight. Enough to keep her beloved bar out of trouble. "I don't understand but if it makes people happy, why the hell not?" She pauses. "And If it makes people miserable… is it worth the bother?" She shrugs her bare shoulders and secures the money, taking it through to the safe in her office.

Joe watches as she comes back and places both arms on the bar, slumping against it, tired. "One more for the road?" She wiggles her brows and indicates down to the gin.

"Drinking away your profits, Roni? I would never." She smirks - she's made a good living tonight, a little indulgence won't hurt. "I shouldn't, one is plenty if I'm driving."

She nods. "Of course. Roni's absolutely does not tolerate drinking and driving." She pours another for herself. "I'm glad I live upstairs."

He is full of admiration for this woman that built this place - built herself - from the ground up; how she's become a pillar of the community, created a safe space for all walks of life and dedicated herself to it all. Some may call her bloody stubborn; he'd call her ferociously dedicated.

Not that it hasn't been to the detriment of her private life — or lack of. They shared _that_ moment the week before and as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he's had the whole exchange firmly on his mind. And so…

"Roni, there's something I'd like to ask you."

"You have my full attention, as always," she smiles, putting the gin bottle back in its rightful place.

"Last week, we-"

"Didn't we just," she replies, licking her lips. After they read Henry's email, the two of them decided to call it a night, embarrassed that they fell into that trap and Henry nor Lucy got away with their little prank.

"Mhm. Well, no matter what Henry or Lucy did or didn't do, it was pretty damn real." Roni considers this for a moment before shrugging, supposing he's correct. "And so, I'd like to take it upon myself to ask you on a date."

Roni sighs. "You know my rule - no dating the staff. You're no exception." Except for that one night, but that was a kiss, not a relationship or... whatever.

"Then I'll quit."

"No! Joe, I _need_ you here, you're the only person I can depend on, come rain or shine in this damn place. I trust you." She sighs. She could just do it, but if it all goes wrong…

It gives him great comfort to know she places trust in him, despite his somewhat chequered past. "I know what you're thinking, _what if it all goes wrong?_ And I respect that, of course I do. I can't help but think the same thing," he nods. "I had a great time last week though and if we could do that again as friends, I'd be quite satisfied."

She's conflicted on a multitude of layers but she forces herself to nod. "You're on. Pasta salad, candlelight and company. Here. Next Monday." Roni's closes early on a Monday night to give the poor woman a chance to recharge her batteries and she thinks this might be the perfect respite to her normal way of a couple of drinks and passing out from sheer fatigue at 8pm.

"I'm in. It's _not_ a date."

She laughs. "It most certainly is _not_. Now, off you go, Joseph. Enjoy the rest of your night. Give Theo a hug from RonRon." She'd always laughed at the boy's name for her, always found it highly endearing. Rather like his father.

"Night then, _RonRon_ ," he laughs, backing out of the building, Roni watching his retreating back as the doors close behind him, locking up as he does.

Monday is not a date. It is _not_ a date.


	2. Mistle-Roni

**_Here's a little Christmas interlude a la Roni and Joe. The idea comes from the photobooth pictures from the OUAT Xmas party. Thank you Lindsay, Shay and Shay's momma Nikola for the beta! An absolute legend! p.s. their not-date will be coming soon!_**

* * *

 _Roni's_ has never actually thrown a Christmas bash before. Sure, she's decked the halls with boughs of holly (and Christmas lights and tinsel…) but she's never actually hosted a Christmas event. She doesn't see the point - she doesn't enjoy the holiday season.

Until Joe plants a seed in her head.

"Oh go on, Ron," he pleads. "You could make a ton of money."

Roni shakes her head, her curls bouncing around her face. "You're well aware money isn't the point," she says, rubbing at the bar with a damp dishcloth. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, dear."

He's quiet whilst he works out the best way to convince her to say yes. "How about the fact you'll be able to get all your favourite people in one place during the Christmas season?"

That appeals, of course, but she shrugs. "People are going to have other plans. Better plans, I'm sure."

"Try." Roni looks up at him, into those blue eyes she consistently gets just a little hung up about (not that she'll ever admit it) and sighs. It may not be the worst idea in the world. "Alright," she sighs. "Alright. December 24th. One night only."

* * *

Joe is more than eager to help Roni decorate the bar, provide the Christmas tunes, cook the festive treats… anything and everything Christmas He's there to help, alongside his totally adorable son, who follows him about with tinsel and baubles like his little shadow. Theo is more than happy to taste test all the nibbles, telling both Roni and his father that the pigs in blankets are just right but the confetti brownies need some more time in the oven. He speaks and acts like such a grown-up that Roni can't help but chuckle at the serious look on his face.

"He does this all the time," Joe explains, "gives me his expert opinion on my cooking."

"I do," Theo nods, "Papa makes good mac and cheese." Roni can't argue with that one, pleased to see his specialty is amongst the sea of food sitting along the right side of the room.

"He does indeed," she says, grinning. "I hope our customers leave some for me."

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the event is a success. Joe had got the word out amongst his friends, the merry men too, Henry with his cab customers and, with the promise of one free drink and food, the bar is comfortably heaving. With Jacinda and Sabine helping out behind the bar, Roni takes a moment to get some quiet in her office, telling Joe she wants to get a head start on her finances for the month when actually, she just wants a breather.

Roni's not a fan of Christmas, not really, so she had never felt the need to host any events or do anything more than decorate a little and serve eggnog and mulled wine. She _does_ try to start on the books, calculating this, that and the other, but her mind wanders, wanders far into the past and it has her shaking her head, taking deep breaths and glancing at the feather sitting on her wrist. She runs her fingertips across the deep ink and is only interrupted when she hears the clearing of a throat at the door.

"Hey, Joe, did you need me?" She says, forcing a smile but he shakes his head, closing the door behind him and sitting opposite her.

"I do have a question." Roni nods; they seem to ask each other a lot of questions, especially when they're alone. "Why do you dislike Christmas?"

She's taken aback by his candidness but nevertheless, she feels comfortable enough to answer him. "You guessed, huh?" He hums at that. "It's just not a happy time for me." He nods and waits for her to continue if she wants, but he won't push and normally Roni really would leave it at that, but she feels compelled to spill her guts to her friend.

"My father died around Christmas when I was a teenager," she explains and Joe offers his sympathies, but she shakes them off. "It was a long time ago now, but I just try to forget by working." Joe guesses this was the day the previous week where Roni's was open for near on 24 hours, but he looks up at her again when she continues to talk.

"Did I ever tell you that I tried to adopt a baby boy once?" That's something unexpected. "Yeah, a beautiful little boy from Boston. I was all ready to fly out and meet him, the son I wanted to give a good life, but as I was on my way to the airport, social services called me and told me I was no longer a good fit for him and the adoption was off." She goes quiet for a beat. "How did they, in a matter of days, go from _you're the perfect candidate_ to _sorry, but no_? I asked and asked but they would never give me an answer. So I tried to move on, but the lack of closure just really… bothered me. I got my heart broken again and again by people who just weren't good enough for me, but this place," she indicates up, "it's been my lifeline. I took the plunge just after they rejected me and used all the savings I'd kept for the child to put a downpayment on this place. Not done too bad for myself, huh?"

Joe agrees, but he knows the pain behind those coffee eyes. Her maternal instinct is unmistakable and, if he didn't know any better, he'd have said she was a mother. Maybe she was one in another life. Or perhaps she's just acted as a mom to so many in this town. He really does admire how she's taken the negative energy from the failed adoption and channeled it into something positive where most, he included, would have caved into the misery. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Roni raises a brow before giving him a close-lipped smile. "I'm just a regular queen," she playfully shrugs. Joe smirks and stands at that, holding out his hand to her and, for a change, she takes it, standing, and he pulls her into a tight hug, one that she greatly appreciates. Roni turns her head in towards his chest, resting against him, her eyes closing as his hands make gentle passes along her back.

"I know Christmas isn't a fun time for you, and I understand, but will you let Theo and I at least try and lift your spirits?"

Roni looks up at him and their eyes meet. There's even more sparks between them since their not-date (dates, plural) and she knows that if she does not step away, they are going to kiss and she'll be the one responsible for breaking their self-set rules. So she steps away and nods. "I would like nothing more than to have a merry Christmas."

"It wouldn't be a very merry Christmas without gifts, would it?" Joe says, and Roni sighs.

"Joe, you really didn't have to…"

"Wait here," he says, squeezing her arm. He's out and back in the room in moments, carrying a large wrapped box. "Merry Christmas, Roni."

It's not Christmas Day, but she opens it anyway, tearing at the red and green packaging to find a plastic Tupperware box, full to the brim of Joe's specialty mac and cheese. "I know that pasta's a hit, so I didn't want you to miss out."

Roni's touched. No, she's beyond touched by such a gesture. She gets greeting cards, but rarely gifts and she can't help the smile that spreads across her face, both because of the gift and because she gets to have her own portion of Joe's pasta extraordinaire.

"It's called maca _roni_ , remember? Maybe we should put it on the menu as _Mac-at-Roni's,_ " he grins, as does she.

"I remember and I'll keep that in mind." She looks up at him, her face falling. "But I haven't got you anything."

"Don't worry," he replies, accentuating the words with a shake of his head. "Your smile is a gift enough for me."

* * *

Roni ignores the knowing look she gets from both Henry and Lucy as the two of them emerge from her office. With her pasta special packed safely in her office fridge, Roni rounds the bar, whilst Joe picks up a few empty glasses and jokes with the customers. They're a good team, the two of them, a pairing that's often commented on and they breeze through the evening together.

"Hey, what's that?" Roni asks, pointing to a section of the room sectioned off by curtains.

"That, milady, is our makeshift photobooth." She looks puzzled and Joe, egged on by Henry's nudges, places his hand on Roni's elbow. "Come with me." She lets him lead her, Henry calling back that he'll man the bar, and they go behind the curtain to find Theo there, posing with the many props in the box on the floor, flashes going off every thirty seconds.

"Papa! This is fun!" He says as another snap goes and Roni grins at his excitement, going willingly when Theo tugs on her hand. They take a few snaps - Theo in Roni's arms, as he's putting a Santa hat on her, little pouty faces, before Joe joins in, putting Theo between them, kissing his cheeks, tickling him, giving Joe a Santa beard and Roni reindeer ears, Theo with a Rudolph red nose. It's when Joe attempts to wrestle Theo into a hug that he giggles and shrieks to let him go, running off with an _I'm hungry_!, leaving the duo together.

"How's that for fun?" Joe comments as Roni picks up another prop, a snowball headband which she affixes over her curls.

"I'm not finished," she grins, passing her friend the elf hat in her hand. "Smile!" She sets the camera, gets into place and _click!_ , the photo's taken, and another, and another, before Joe's picking up the final prop in the box.

"Mistletoe," he states and Roni playfully rolls her eyes.

"I'll humour you this once," she says as he holds the flower over the two of them and, as the picture is taken, she presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. As she pulls back, he turns and once again, their eyes meet and lock. This time though, she can't pull away and she doesn't know whether it's the quart of whisky she just consumed, the rowdy festivities just beyond the curtain or the magic of the mistletoe suspended above them, but she leans in. He meets her halfway and their lips meet for the second time, just as soft, just as gentle as the first time but, unlike then, almost as soon as they've broken for a breath, they're moving back in, a little harder, a little more desperately.

It's not until Roni lets out a little hum that they part, mainly for breath, but also to gather their ever so lust-addled thoughts. Joe simply licks his lips, for he has no regrets but Roni has indeed broken her own rules and Joe can read that thought all over her face. He breathes in to say he'd do it all again when Roni's mouth widens into a slow smile.

"To hell with my rules." And their lips meet again, Roni grasping the hand holding the mistletoe and chucking it aside, allowing them both to embrace properly, paying no mind to the constant camera flashes. They're both silently thanking the sweet baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, God, and goodness knows how many donkeys for the privacy the curtain allows.

They don't need mistletoe anymore.

* * *

 _ **A very merry Christmas to you all! xo**_


	3. Ricochet

**For OQ Happy Ending weekday 5 - cursed world happy ending. It's been a lot of fun to write for Roni and Joe again, even if I did hastily write it this evening! Thank you, Lindsay, for the usual beta! :)**

* * *

Tell the ones you love that you love them while you still can. That way, should anything happen, that's not a regret you'll have to shoulder day in, day out.

Roni wasn't thinking any of this, not yet, as she wiped down the counter of her beloved bar. She could hear Joe plucking at some guitar strings in the corner of the room, testing the mic for their performer later. There was only so many times he could test it, however, so when Roni calls him over, she tells him so.

"I just want to make sure it's perfect."

She shrugs. "Come help me with these glasses instead."

He picks up a dishcloth and starts drying said glasses. "You know I do love you when you're bossy."

Roni raises a brow. "Bossy is not all I'll be if you test that mic again!" She jokes, leaning over the bar to peck his lips before heading to her office.

He watches her go with a heavy sigh. He's told her he loves her several times, both just like he did and straight up, but she's yet to say anything back. He knows she finds those words hard to say, but he can't deny that it stings a little. Still, he's a patient man and she doesn't have to say it to show it.

* * *

The Mad Hatter was the alter ego of a musician who purely went by the name Jefferson, with a reputation for a catchy beat and antagonising everyone around him. Roni knows he's a talented young lad who'll bring the punters, and booked him on a promise that he would keep all the trouble he seems to bring firmly outside her bar. He gave her his absolute word and now, looking at the heaving bar, Roni thinks she's made a good choice.

At least, that's the case until there is a scream from the crowd. _He's got a gun!_ one young attendee tells frantically, causing a mass panic, the crowd running out of any and all exits they can. All Roni can do is make sure her patrons make it out safely and trip the emergency button without making it obvious. Thankfully there's enough of a commotion to mask her actions.

"Oh don't worry," the gunman spits, looking the band up and down. "I'm not here for the riff-raff. I'm here for the star." Accentuating the word with air quotes, he cocks his gun in the direction of the lead singer who, for all his everlasting arrogant air, looks petrified.

"Can't we talk about this?" He asks. "Neal, can we just..?"

"Shut the fuck up." Neal growls, stepping closer to the stage as Roni rounds the bar. "You better stay _right_ where you are, lady," he says, Roni's hands coming up in defence, not daring to make another step.

"Whoa, what the—" Joe's sudden presence from the back room spooks Neal to the point that he lets off a rogue shot, the bullet of which barely misses Roni's leg and ricochets off a metal plate mounted on the bar and elsewhere in the room. Roni puts her hand out to Joe to stop him from coming any closer, a hint which he takes. "What is this about?"

Neal looks genuinely surprised that someone is asking him what's wrong, turning to Joe with a confused look. "What's wrong!?"

"Yes, that's what I said, son." The boy can't be any more than 16, 17 at a push, and he reminds him of himself at that age. Perhaps without the gun in his hand. "What is it? Is it something we can talk about without the gun?"

"No." His steely mask is well and truly back in place. "There is nothing we can _talk_ about." He turns his attention back to Jefferson. "I trusted you, you asshole, now Pan wants his money back."

"I don't have it…" is all Jefferson manages before Neal is stepping forward, as is Joe, slowly moving up behind the boy, with all intentions to grab the weapon from his grasp.

Roni can do nothing but stand and stare, hoping that the police department had received her signal. It looks very possible that Joe could reprehend the child himself, but Jefferson's expression gives it away, Neal's gun pressing directly into Joe's chest.

If he's afraid, then he shows absolutely no sign of it. His breathing is even, his eyes squarely on the boy's. He knows that a moment's hesitation could end up with one or more bodies and he wants none.

"Get back," Neal snarls, pushing the metal a little harder into his torso.

"I'm trying to help you," Joe pleads, hands rising into the air in surrender again.

"How can you help me, huh?" He turns back to Jefferson, waving the loaded weapon about like a toy. " _He_ is who I'm after."

"I was a thief too," he tells Neal and the disbelief on his face is clear to see. "Second chances are what ensures people who have had bad intentions see what they've done, to direct them to the right decision, the right path. I don't really know what this person has done to you, what he's stolen, but you don't need to do this. Don't become what society expects of you."

Neal considers for the most fleeting of seconds, but it turns out it doesn't matter, for Rogers, Weaver and company come bursting through the front door with warning shouts, their guns poised to shoot at the first sign of movement.

It's tense, incredibly so, and there are several long seconds where it could go either way for any of them. Neal looks at his gun, back up to Joe, and lets out a piercing cry as he drops the offending object, letting it clatter to the floor, letting Joe kick it away out of reach, his arms coming around the sobbing teen in comfort.

…

Joe's adrenaline is through the roof, pulsing and coursing through his body as the police cart both Neal and Jefferson away for questioning. Turns out Jefferson had been wanted on a separate charge and the officers had enough to arrest him. He's relaxing on Roni's couch, fingers flexing as he comes down from the surge.

Roni passes him a glass of water (as well as something that bit stronger) and sits in her chair. "I could say that was stupid, or that was reckless," she starts, raking her fingers through her curls, "but Joe, that was… heroic."

He shakes his head. "No, it's what anyone would do."

"With a gun in their face? Hardly."

"It wasn't in my face," he shrugs and she rolls her eyes.

"Close enough."

"He didn't want to shoot him. It was to scare him," Joe explains but Roni shakes her head.

"He had every intention of using it. It was loaded, left a lovely hole in my bar," she winces. "Still, rather the bar than you."

Joe nods. "Sometimes situations aren't as they seem."

"Well, you're very lucky that you're right," she tells him, taking a generous gulp of whisky.

"Luck or otherwise, we're still here and together."

"I love you." Roni blurts it out without thinking and her eyes widen at her own words. "I mean…"

Joe's tumbler is resting on his lips and he's about to take a drink when she says those three words he'd been waiting for. He blinks once, twice, unbelieving in what he's hearing.

"Oh god, don't make me say it again!" She says, hands coming over her eyes.

He laughs, placing his glass on the side and jumping up to embrace Roni. "Go on, say it again."

"Joe!" She drawls before pulling back to look at him. "I love you. I love you a lot."

He kisses her, deeply.

"I love you too, you know."


End file.
